Sleeping sickness in spring unconsciously broke the morning, and the chirping of birds disturbed my sleep.
How many flowers fall after a stormy night.
This is Meng Haoran's most famous work. This poem does not make witty remarks, but every word is natural and delicious.
This poem is only 20 words long, but it has infinite charm, which is highly praised by ancient and modern poetry critics. At first glance, it seems boring. After reading it repeatedly, you will find that there is a different world in the poem, which is memorable.
When we wake up in spring and look at the fallen flowers outside the window, we will naturally recite this poem. Good poetry has such magic that it will always touch your heart at some point.
Night parking on Jiande River.
Stop the boat in a foggy small state, when new worries come to the guest's heart.
The vastness of the wilderness is deeper than trees, and the moon is very close to the moon.
Meng Haoran wrote this poem when he wandered around wuyue and stayed by the Sujiang River.
It's near dusk when the boat is docked in a foggy continent, and the traveler's heart is full of sadness. Vilen is vast, the sky is lower than the trees in the distance, and the bright moon is reflected in the clear river, which makes it more close to people.
Passing through the village of the old man
This old friend prepared a delicious meal and invited me to his hospitable farm.
Green Woods surround the village and green hills are located outside the city.
Open the window facing the valley vegetable garden and pass the glass to talk about crops.
Please come here to see chrysanthemums when the ninth festival comes.
Meng Haoran was invited by a friend to be a guest. When he came to the countryside, he saw the green hills behind the village and the green trees beside the village, just like a wonderful picture of green mountains and green waters.
In the simple and natural pastoral scenery, the host and guest drank a toast at home, talking and laughing happily, expressing the sincere friendship between the poet and his friends.
At first glance, this poem seems as plain as water. Deliberate, like an idyllic Chinese painting, perfectly blends scenery, events and feelings, and has a strong artistic appeal.
There is a mind on the Early Cold River.
Leaves fall to the south and the north wind is bleak.
My home is wandering by the river, and the sea of clouds is far away.
Tears of homesickness in the journey, see the back of the sail on the horizon.
The smoke in the wind blurs where the ferry can be, and the vast river ripples in the sunset.
Meng Haoran wrote this poem when he was wandering in Wu.
Trees rustle, geese fly south, the north wind whistles and the weather is cold. What a sight of late autumn. My home is near the winding water, far away from the sea of clouds in Chutian.
Tears of homesickness run out during the journey, watching the returning sail wander in the horizon. The wind and smoke blurred where the ferry could be, and the vast river rippled in the sunset.
The second pair and the third pair of this poem are naturally matched, and there is no trace of axe chisel. The second couplet refers to the status of Xiangyang, and it is natural to match on the spot.
Message from Dongting Lake to Premier Zhang.
The autumn water rises and almost blends with the shore, mixing water and sky with the sky.
Ozawa's water vapor transpiration on the cloud soil is white, and the waves seem to shake the whole Yueyang.
I'm going to cross the water to find a boat and paddle. It's a shame to return home in the sacred age.
When I sit here and watch a fisherman throw a hook, I envy his catch in vain.
This is a dry poem. Meng Haoran wants to go into politics and realize his ideal. I hope someone can introduce me. He wrote this poem to Zhang Jiuling before the Beijing exam, hoping that he could introduce it.
It is natural that "Yun Qi is foggy and covers Yueyang", but the scenery of Dongting Lake is impressive.
As a dry poem, the most important thing is to write it properly and praise the other party for being measured and not losing his identity. The wording should be neither supercilious nor condescending, which is the first-class writing.
Return to Mount Lumeng at night.
In the evening, the bell of the temple echoed in the valley, and a noisy voice sounded at Yulu Ferry.
People walked along the shore to Jiangcun village, and I also returned to Lumen by boat.
The moonlight at the deer gate made the mountain tree appear, and I suddenly came to the seclusion of exile.
Lonely mountain road and quiet forest road, only hermits come and go gracefully here.
Meng Haoran has been living in seclusion in the South Garden of Xianshan, and later set up a residence in Lumen Mountain, and occasionally went to live.
Near dusk, the bell of the Mountain Temple rang, and people at Yu Liang Ferry scrambled to cross the river, which was noisy. Pedestrians walked along the sand bank to Jiangcun, and I also returned to Lumen Mountain by boat. The bright moonlight reflected the Lumen Mountain, and the trees were in a daze.
Suddenly, as if unconsciously, I went to the place where Pang Gong once lived in seclusion, and also to my present residence. Like the gate of the rock, the path between the pine forests is faint and quiet, and only the hermit comes and goes, blending in with this wonderful nature.